Danger Dame
by Brass Gear Trollop
Summary: KiddxOC. A fun horror erotica involving The charming, fiery haired captain and a dangerous woman who is a little too comfortable with her sexuality. Usual disclaimer, I don't own One Piece etc. Check profile for update info. I keep that updated
1. Intro

A hungry crew is an angry crew, which unfortunately happened to be the best description of Kid's crew. Worse yet, a short tempered crew were the least of the short tempered captain's problems. As the pirates passed through each island, they received warnings and taunts of an area of the sea littered with dangerous boulders and swift currents. Kid needed someone who could navigate such a sea.

The Kid pirates docked at Urdo Island. It was a rather common island, common in the sense of the common old lady with hair so big it must contain secrets. Yes, that lady everyone has seen and perhaps a few get their daily gossip and garbage from. Ah, the banal glory of this island… And the banal garbage.


	2. Chapter 1

If you walk through the streets of Mundi Town in the few hours between the late night and dawn, you may spot a few odd folks making their way to a shabby bar. If you were walking the streets of Mundi Town at those forbidden hours, you were probably numbered among those odd folks.

Rusla began her shift at the Blue Moon bar around two in the morning. Her job was the usual of serving customers and the unusual of dragging out dead or unconscious bodies to be claimed by unhappy wives and family, and this task was performed around eight in the morning. The regulars of Blue Moon were conspiracy theorists, paranoid schizophrenics, thieves, pirates, pedophiles, rapists, sadomasochists, terrorists, etc, etc. They were a lively sort that loudly caroused and pinched bottoms to a bruising excess. For Rusla, the pain in the ass was worth the gossip and terrorist plots. No love for the gov' in this bar.

Rusla had a bit of notoriety herself. Born in a shit village on a nearby island, Rusla gained a nasty reputation there as a small child. Like most small children she had a fondness for toys and a natural creativity. Such things are all fine and good when nurtured by parents and adults. However, little Rusla was born of woman raped by a savage pirate. For this, the little girl was shunned by almost all the locals. T'was very tragic. Her creativity became a rather dark one; her fascinations were on poisons and the many methods of murder. Many later predicted that she would have made a fine marine given proper encouragement and training. Ah well, no use crying over spilled milk. Or spilled seed for that matter.

Having completed her morning tasks of dragging limp bodies out the doors, Rusla made her way back to her shabby little apartment for a nap. Sure, she could afford a better place, but there was a certain amount of charm in the cracked plaster and stains of god-only-knows in the walls. The delicate scurries of roaches across the floor were a relaxing lullaby that lulled her to sleep.

A few miles down the road lay a port with a rather bad reputation, similar to the dark, gang-filled sides of an otherwise pleasant city. Here, the Kid pirates docked and disembarked. They split up on who was to stay and guard the ship. Of course, that duty never fell on Kid or Killer. A few of the pirates found their way to cheap floorshows and brothels, and spent their hard-earned money on lovely hookers who accompanied them throughout their stay. There was going to be a fine party that night.

Captain Kid found himself in boring bar with crappy service filled with men in clean, fine shirts and expensive slacks. Annoyed with the crowd, he looked for an excuse for a fight, and he sure as hell found one. A poor fop sitting in the middle of the room was making quite the ruckus over his recent, "manly" achievement of buying a new slave girl. The fiery-haired captain went ahead and commented on the fop's immorality. This earned the captain a cold stare and a rude, arrogant remark that had something to do with nobility and whatever. Not that Kid paid much attention; the stare was reason enough for him to start a fight.

In the short span of a minute or so, the walls of the bar were given a splattered paint job of blood and the room was given a few new cadavers for decoration. Content with his mischief, Kid walked out of the building to find something else to do. A peculiar looking man with a hunched back and a few missing teeth thanked Kid for ridding him of some pesky rodents and invited him for free drinks at Blue Moon bar. A free beer is always a good deal, and many free beers is a grand deal. Kid accepted and went off to find his crew and the bar.

The Kid pirates entered Blue Moon bar at around midnight. The old man who invited them went ahead and bought a round of drinks.

"You familiar wit them Alba Peaks?" the old man asked the captain.

"I've heard of it."

"In three or fo' islands, the you will be heading straight through it, assuming you're after ta Grand Laahhnn. Better hire a navigator or summin' capable of goin through the place wi'out smashin the ship," the old man continued, "and in addition to the peaks, you got them sea monsters to deal wit. You whippersnappers look strong enough and the beasts will probably be the least of your worries. Unless them beasts punch a hole in yer ship. Gwahahahaha!"

"Do you know of anyone who can navigate the Alba Peaks?"

"Tha lassie over there has gone through Alba so many times, she know it like the back of her hand." The old man beckoned to Rusla who had begun her shift at Blue Moon.

The captain spoke to her, "Well well barmaid, would you like to join my crew?"

She cast him a look. "I'd rather not. But the look on your face says you're not giving an option."

"Heh. Observant. This old man says you can navigate the Alba. True or not, we could _make use_ of a woman on our crew"

The crew cheered, the old man laughed, and barmaid put on a pout.

"Oh well I'm sorry, dear sir. It'd probably be best to snatch up the girls that have been loitering around this place for customers than take me. You see, I'm a bit high maintenance and put up enough fight to make it not worth the effort… or the money."

"Gwahahaha! I'd listen to 'er! She a dangerous dame! Gwahaha! A Danger Dame!" The old man grinned at the situation. "Well, I be getting tired. I'll leave it to ye kids to figure it out!"

And with that, he left.

"You seem useful and will be a part of my crew, like it or not, until we've crossed the Alba. So you can pack up your things and come nicely, or we will take you by force," the captain threatened with a sneer. "You are a local of the area, so if you can't navigate the Alba Peaks, you sure as hell can find someone who can."

Rusla preferred packing her things and walking on her own to being dragged out and man-handled. Her new captain gave her the day she was expected to be on the ship and where the ship was, the whole bit. She continued to serve the pirates as they began their revelries. Some of the men made use of the strippers, others made better use of the prostitutes. The captain enjoyed a good bit of drinking and screwing with a pretty, young girl his crew bought from some poor family along the way. The onlookers smiled, laughed, and tried to take part. The saner of them were successful. The rapists and pedophiles made use of the girl discarded by the captain. The necrophiliacs enjoyed a girl that had the misfortune of pissing off Killer.

All in all, it was a very sinful night. Even "soloist" Rusla couldn't keep from a small make out session with a charming man who was visiting from some far off island.

By around dawn, most of the pirates managed to stumble out and get themselves a room for the night. Rusla and a few other girls had the unfortunate job of cleaning the mess up, which included, but was not limited to, used condoms, broken glass, pasties, thongs, blood, a severed finger, and the usual passed-out or dead bodies.


	3. Chapter 2

Oh hai thar!

Thanks for the reviews and best wishes, etc etc. I added more stuff to this chapter, corrected some grammar errors. I hope to get Ch 3 up by Thursday. If I don't, follow the directions in the next mini paragraph.

Ah, would it kill you guys to occasionally send me some message along the lines of "omg, you lazy ass, update already." It wouldn't kill me to receive something like that, I promise. I'm not a china doll. My feelings don't break easily or anything. I have no excuse not to update at the moment. Also, tell me if I'm starting to suck, and how. I kinda set a standard on my stuff with the first chapter, and if I don't meet the expectations you made after reading the first chapter, explain then verbally kick my ass.

* * *

"I'm so horny, the crack of dawn better watch out!" – Tom Waits

The Kid pirates woke up to exceedingly bright morning sunlight that graciously poured through the windows that seemed to have doubled in size since the night before. In addition to this, the chirping of birds outside set every man's teeth on edge and made him want to bash his head against the wall. Kid and Killer had first dibs on the few bathrooms in the room, and took a great deal of pleasure in making the rest of the crew wait. The wimpy members of the crew had to fight the urge to vomit due to the strong odor of some other man's dinner lingering in the restroom. After freshening up as best they could, the pirates wandered through town, stocking up on supplies and porn mags. Porn is pretty serious when you're stuck on a ship with no women for miles, which brought the captain's thoughts to his new crew member. She seemed like a charming enough woman who had the looks to keep a man occupied for hours. But just hours, not days or weeks. She had a point in just picking up a prostitute. They'd be a lot cheaper, easy to change out and probably even more compliant. With that in mind, he instructed a few of his men to go find some cheap, pretty things to keep them occupied until the next island.

Killer had little interest in women or intercourse. Or so it appeared to his crew mates and the rest of the world. He had his tastes, which didn't include the softcore pornos that excited his peers or the hardcore bondage that aroused his captain. Sure, as a younger teen he could stare at those magazines for hours, but soon enough, he wanted something more extreme. BDSM caught his interest as he became stronger and more aggressive. He kept searching for more explicit, more graphic material. Some time after he joined the crew, violent sketches failed to completely excite him. The horrors of the pages were far more exciting in reality. Now, only the shrill screams, the thud of bodies falling before him, and sheer physical exertion could bring any excitement. Pain is pleasure, especially for the giver. A fair face rolled away from its even fairer body with an aroused Killer standing over his achievement. The masked pirate prided himself on the hunt. Not once did the girl suspect a follower! Killer unzipped his pants and claimed his prize. After using her two orifices, he went ahead and slashed open a third, which he made thorough use of. Still parked in the cooling girl, Killer contemplated the idea of leaving the body out for the marines to discover. To what new amount would his bounty increase? Would this even be considered his work? What horror would descend among the people of this island? The last thought brought him over the edge. A fine idea, but his captain wouldn't appreciate having the island swarming with marines. Killer wiped himself off with the clean shreds of the girl's clothes and prepared to dispose of the body, which he decided to leave her high in a tree where wild animal could feast. One day, long after the Kid pirates have left the island, the girl's remains would fall, hopefully on the head of some unsuspecting pedestrian, and leave the island in terror for days. These common, bland islands gave Killer a clean canvas for him to make such exciting horrors. With his lust and imagination satisfied, Killer returned to his usual self.

The small group of Kid pirates assigned with the task of finding some prostitutes debated on the pros and cons of raiding a brothel. They came to the conclusion that this was a most fantastic idea, but should be carried out on the day they planned to leave. Using the money the captain had loaned them for this mission, they staked out the brothels with the prettiest girls and came to the conclusion that the brothel near the dock not only had the finest sets of tits on the island, but it was also very convenient for a snatch and dash, and there were many fine snatches to dash off with. The boys set off to find their captain and tell him of their plan.

Around lunchtime, Rusla woke with a nasty headache. After dragging herself to the shitty mirror in her shitty room filled with shitty stains, she took a look at her fine nude image and grinned. She pulled out a stick of incense and lit it, enjoying the sweet, smoky smell that filled her room. Small streams of sunlight filtered into the dark, hot, humid room. Rusla laid supine on the filthy floor. The heat of the room took its toll on her mind. Her heat-addled brain got the idea of stealing every last bottle of alcohol from Blue Moon then lighting the whole bar on fire before she left with her new crewmates. The crazy idea went from lighting merely the bar on fire, to lighting the whole town ablaze! The insane thought danced through her mind until she finally passed out an hour after waking up. Later in the evening, she woke up a second time. At least now, the heat had died down and her brain was no longer addled. Lukewarm water sprayed out of the phallic showerhead that was in the center of a tiled bathroom. The bathroom was quite nice compared to the rest of the apartment. Tiles from floor to ceiling, a peculiar looking drain, a not-so-shitty mirror, nice toilet, phallic faucet heads with knobs that looked like a ball sack, a bidet, the whole bit. She wasn't entirely sure why she let her bedroom go to hell and yet had a nice (albeit phallic) bathroom. On the plus side, she occasionally rented the bathroom for a few hours to pornstars so they could take some picture with the nice hardware. After cleaning herself off and getting on some decent clothes, Rusla made her way to the streets to pick up a bag to keep her belongings and prepared to sell off the stuff she wouldn't be carrying. In addition, she hoped to find her landlord to let him know that she would be leaving in a few days.

In a tree not too far down the road, a strange humanoid beast enjoyed a feast of fresh human flesh. The beast sucked all fluids from the body. The fluids were saltier than usual, and tastier. He didn't know what this strange addition to his meal was, but he hungered for it. He would track down the owner of the salty goodness, the enough of the scent lingered for the beast to track the source. Yes! He would search out the source and eat his fill, body and all! All of this passed through the creature's head as he ate the girl's body in the tree.

The source and his captain walked through town and made their way to Blue Moon. They met up with the crew assigned the job of finding whores.

"So captain, there's a brothel close to the dock with some fine lookin' girls. I say we save the money, and just take the girls. Escape will be easy since it's practically right next to the ship."

"Good enough."

Given the okay, the crew began plotting the fastest way to raid the brothel and be off without being recognized. Killer was chosen to scout out the area and come up with the best route. The weaker members were to prepare the room for the hookers and make sure the room was completely secure. The captain and a few others with good taste got to raid the special area… And pick out the finest girls.

A few hours of planning later, a frowning Rusla walked through the door. This wasn't all that unusual as Rusla had plenty to frown about- tragic past, present ennui, and future uncertainty. But of all the cruel, tragic, horrible, gruesome, sad, tragic, unfortunate, dreadful, unpleasant, tragic, tragic, tragic (oh and did I mention tragic?) things to happen to her and will happen to her, this was by far the most *dramatic pause* … Mundane.

"Who the HELL did a shit job of cleaning up after their mess? You know who you are?"

*blank stares all around*

"No really. Who left a dead body in a tree with bodily evidence of who's the murderer. C'mon spit it out. I just spotted one of the baby Kauf monsters in town. Those things never enter town unless their tracking someone," Rusla rants and raves, and turning, looks at the visitors, "and they can only track someone if they got a trace of the scent of someone alive. So once again, which of you idiots left your evidence all over your kill?"

Killer dared not speak up. He was too ashamed to admit that he fucked a corpse. He had a reputation to keep up! And while he thought this problem would blow over, the problem made its way to Blue Moon Bar.


	4. Chapter 3

"God gave us a penis and a brain, but not enough blood to use both at the same time" – Robin Williams

Even later that evening, after some revelry, the Kid pirates stumbled off, far less drunk than the night before, but still needing their beauty sleep. However, one little Kid pirate was too worried for rest. His crewmates considered him to be rather stoic. Arrogant, violent, but otherwise stoic. If word of his necrophilia got out, he would endure teasing for weeks. Maybe even months! An awkward situation must be avoided at all costs. That's it! He resolved, early tomorrow morning to wake up and kill whatever this creature was. But how would he find it? The corpse could give him *yawn* some clues. And then, he could look for that thi- *yaaaaawwwwwnnnnn* ng. Killer fell asleep in the middle of his thoughts. On the bright and early morning of the third day of their stay, Killer snuck out of his room unsuccessfully. His captain noticed and decided to track him.

Killer found the decapitated girl's body on the ground. It was mostly dry (the flies didn't even bother with it) and partly eaten, the natural and created orifices were completely eaten. The massacre man breathed a sigh of relief. No point in killing the monster. Why, the monster saved his reputation! The evidence of his necrophilia was gone.

"Heh, Killer. You're the one that didn't dispose the body that the bar maid was yelling about."

Killer was startled, but with practiced calm he managed a reply. "I just wanted to move it further out of town. Maybe that'll make the beast that she mentioned go away."

"Hn. I don't think there is a beast. I think she just wanted the body out of town. And by the way, what did she do? Was she a bad fuck?" He motioned to the dead girl. "Or was she satisfying and rude?"

Kid walked with Killer as the masked man dragged the corpse out of town.

"The body will be fine here," said Kid as they reached a field of overgrown grass and bushes.

Killer hid the body in one of the bushes, and this time, made sure not to leave and trace of himself. While Killer busied himself with this, Kid decided to take a leak in another bush. He aimed at what looked like a little baby in the bush. The creature scampered off towards Killer, the same creature that developed a peculiar taste for a Killer's seed. The creature jumped up and oh god! Not there, little guy! Don't bite him there! Killer was alert and managed to kick the thing far away from his jewels.

"Hehe, did that thing just try to emasculate you?" Kid doubled over laughing. "What the fuck was that! Hahaha!"

Only Killer and the all-knowing narrator knew the dark and angry expression that lay beneath the mask.

Back in town, Rusla was preparing for her 8 AM to 5 PM sleep. At the inn, some of Kid's crew had started to get up. They wondered what happened to Kid and Killer, but they just figured they got an early start on the day or something completely good, mundane, wholesome, and normal. Yes, nothing weird could happen today. Or so went the thoughts of Rusla and the remaining Kid pirates.

The pirates continued stocking up on supplies, necessary supplies rather than mags and lube. Breadstuffs, preserved meats, preserved fruits, nuts, barrels of water, and most important, barrels of whiskey, beer, and rum. There weren't any decent cooks aboard, so most the boys spent money left over from the hookers on decent meals. Considering the low quality of the food on ship, even the cheap food on the stalls was a blessing. While it helps to have strong members on the crew, would it kill their captain to invest in a chef? One of the pirates was chewing on this peculiar dish of some sort of squid filled with the testicles of some sort of bovine. The locals said it promoted strength and virility, and with the low prices on girls here, he'll need all the strength he could muster.

It was late afternoon when Rusla had finally woken up. First order of business was to keep the carrion beast from heading into town. It was for peculiar occurrences like these that the town allowed a place like Blue Moon Bar to exist. The regulars of Blue Moon were conveniently found in one place and could do the dirty work of keeping up with appearances. She scouted the outer perimeter of the town, when she suddenly caught sight of her new captain and his masked buddy.

"What brought you this far out of town?" Rusla asked, hoping they might have some glimmer of information on the recent menace.

"Just sightseeing," Kidd replied with a bullshitting grin.

"Oh of course. You wouldn't happen to have caught sight of the creature I was yelling about last night. Those things are quite the nuis- oh Killer, what happened to your hands?" She immediately grabbed his hands and sniffed them. "You should be a little more careful Killer. Decaying flesh has a very distinct odor, and so does the creature's saliva."

"Hehehe, you caught us! We were just moving the body further out of town," Kid quickly replied, saving his crewmate from a potentially awkward situation. "The creature sure was weird. It tried to bite him on the crotch! Hahahaha!" He burst out laughing once again and Rusla joined in.

"You know, these things aren't smart enough to attack a man's weak point. This sounds like the same time-"

One of her peers finishes her sentence while she starts laughing again. "- a rapist came to this town. We never had to bother tracking him down as the one of the creatures found him and chewed his manhood, cue balls and shaft, clean off. The man died of blood loss and shock. Man do you even have a fucking brain? Everyone here knows that you have to dispose the body at-"

"He has a brain, man! Between his damn thighs!" Rusla cut in and once again, laughing at the epic humiliation of Killer, Kid and her friend joining in.

When they had finally calmed down, Rusla introduced her friend Jonathan and at that convenient moment, one of Killer's earlier wishes came true. The head of the fair girl he had killed fell straight onto the unsuspecting Jonathan, who promptly shat bricks.

"I'm just going to hope that you screwed her before you killed her. If not, then seriously man, what the fuck?" commented Rusla. Kid stifled a chuckle.

Putting on some water proof gloves, Rusla picked up the head and started walking out of town, towards an area of charred rocks and ashes. "Now this were you dispose of bodies that are tainted with the scent of someone who is still alive, mmkay? Now help me start a fire." As she directed them, a larger humanoid beast approached them with the stealth of a hunter. Or rather a huntress, as this one had feminine features. Approaching was the mother of the carrion feeding menace. Many feared her yellow eyes that were the things of nightmares, but that was the least disturbing. Her genitalia were bleeding and rotting, but even still, that was not nearly as horrifying as her slimy, transparent skin. Beneath that skin, you could witness the grotesque workings of her body and the parasites that crawled through it. It was this coupled with the fear that perhaps humans aren't so much different from a such a monster that struck fear and despair in those who witnessed her.

She attacked.

* * *

As for the weird food mentions, I was watching Iron Chef and Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern

I have nothing against Killer; it's just that many fics make him super serious, and while that is in line with what Oda has shown us of Killer, I was to make him have an awkward moment or two. I'm fairly certain that Oda won't give us much background on the Kid pirates. Maybe the Heart pirates will get more attention, with them saving Luffy and all.

And sorry for not making the Thursday deadline. I was hoping that if I missed the deadline, I'd be off by an hour or two, rather than 24 hours.

NEVER FEAR! KILLER'S MANHOOD SHALL BE SPARED!


	5. Chapter 4

"Neglected girls shouldn't worry. That's what God made sailors for!" - Rasputina

Killer was the first to notice the monster's movements and quickly alerted the others.

"I wasn't expecting this, Jonny-boy" commented Rusla

"I didn't come prepared," said Jonathan

"Yup, now go start a fire so we can burn this thing when we finish."

The rest of the company present held a fighting stance. Beasts and men waited on the first move. Without warning, the thing that had tried to bite Killer's crotch, tried again!

Killer quickly dodged, sparing his manhood.

The thing's mother landed a strike on Killer wounding his arm. Killer counters with a slash at her legs. Kid was out of his element, with very few ferrous metal objects near him, but with the few pieces of ferrous metal he could find, he used them like little projectiles. Along with these makeshift bullets were actual bullets from his pistol and his dagger which he sent flying at the huntress.

Their combined efforts still failed land many hits on the two beasts. The beasts however, managed to land several shallow scratches on the two pirates.

Rusla and Jonathan stood off to the side, observing the beasts' movements.

"It's rare to see one of the adults in action. How swift! But her skin doesn't look very capable of holding moisture, so this battle is doing a number on her, even if they don't land many hits." Rusla remarked.

"Mhm. I can see how this inability to hold water could be a problem. It seems as though every parasite in her body would revolt if she were to keep up this pace. Heh, I already find them revolting," Jonathan replied, tending to a small fire he managed to start with a bit of fuel, coal, and flint.

"Ha. Clever man you are, Jonathan. Clever man. Tell me, how's your wife? How are the kids?"

"She's doing quite well- depressingly charming as usual. She taught the boys to find toads and slugs. They got a little cage now for their-"

"Stop making-" Kid dodged a slash, "-small talk. Rusla, do something-" throws a punch at the smaller beast, "FUCKING USEFUL!" yelled Kid as he managed an uppercut on the mother.

Rusla, Killer, and Kid surrounded the mother and attacked all at once. One of their hits landed, Killer's, so they repeated the attack. This time, the beast's attempt to dodge Rusla attack, resulted in the thing getting punched by Kid straight into Killer's rotating blades.

As the beast's lifeless body dropped to the ground, Kid noticed an unusual bulge in his first mate's pants. "Oi, Killer, is that a dagger in your pocket or do you really find things like this arousing?" Kid asked with a sneer. Killer growled.

Rusla remarked, "What? Are you going to rub off in that thing?" referring to the monster they just killed. "Well, I suppose I can sympathize. I was fighting this bounty hunter once. I could've died when he had me in that strangling hold, but it was so strangely… erotic. I killed the guy, but I won't forget that delicious mix of fear and arousal. Death had held me _so very close."_

"Ms. Rus, every new thing I learn about you furthers my concern for your sanity" piqued a worried Jonathan who now had a roaring fire going.

To ruin the moment, the ignored beast who watched his mother die without emotion (how cold!) decided to continue going after what he wanted. Once more, he attempted to sink his teeth into Killer's groin, only to be stopped by a kick from Rusla, the only useful thing she manages to do in this fight.

"Goddamn! That smells awful. What circle of hell does this odor come from?" complained Jonathan as he shoveled the bodies into the fire. "Probably the one where the damned are being boiled in their own blood, or maybe the one where they have to sit around in the shit pool."

"Jonathan, you're a fucking nerd."

"Part of my charm!"

"Indeed." Rusla yawned. She was up early. Three in the afternoon is a crappy hour, especially in the summer. It's even worse if you usually wake up around five in the afternoon. "I'm going home to take a nap."

"But you didn't even do anything," snapped Kid.

She yawned again. "That's because you had it mostly under control. Unless I'm wrong, in which case, I worry about my choice to agree to join your crew."

"You're actually going through with that?" asked Jonathan. "Tis a shame."

"Complain to him," said Rusla gesturing over to Kid, "he's my new captain."

"I don't have a death wish."

The group parted when they reached town. Kid and Killer headed to towards the inn, and Rusla and Jonathan went to his place for lunch with his wife.

"I'm surrounded by sexual deviants."

"Don't forget to include yourself, captain."

"How am I a sexual deviant?"

"BDSM is quite the deviation from the norm."

"Tch, not that much of a deviation. At least I'm not fucking corpses."

"I did not fuck a corpse!"

The air surrounding the two pirates was getting rather murderous, so Kid dropped the subject. The day after tomorrow, the crew was to leave in the early morning. Supplies had been racked up, the raid planned, and the ship cleaned up. Rusla seemed like she would make good on her choice to join the crew. As for Killer, Kid hoped the man would keep his peculiar fetishes to himself and not kill any of the girls. If they got a few too many girls on accident, he might let Killer have at them. Maybe.

Kid checked up on the plans to raid the brothel. Rusla took a nap. Killer wandered around town, contemplating the fun in bathing in the blood of virgins. A Kid pirate was complaining against his limp member, spent from so much excitement. Just like our little pirate friend, many poets had been shamed by their members for over indulging. An old man in the street was sweeping the sidewalk. A few degenerates were playing doctor behind a few bushes, only to be caught by an angry neighbor. A sea bird was stealing slices of bread from a blind, old woman who was walking out of the bakery. She paid a little extra to the baker to get a "little extra" from the man with who wasn't too picky. A strange dolphin in the sea, a good distance from Kid's ship, insisted on ramming his snout into the crotch of an unfortunate swimmer. A few marines proved the gay soldier stereotype in the janitor closet over in Marie Jois. All of this led up to the late evening, when most of the crew gathered at Blue Moon.

Rusla was carefully taking count of the alcohol in the bar. She planned on bringing along some barrels of her favorites. The crew probably already had some stores of cheap rum and beer, but her tastes had been refined thanks to her experience in the bar. If she snuck in her precious cargo of alcohol, she wouldn't have to share it with the crew. But all this alcohol takes up space. She'd like to get a good look as to how much space she had. "Che, stuff to do the next day," she thought as she served her crewmates. As the night wore on, her bottom was sore and her head buzzing with gossip, conspiracy theories, and assassination plots. One of which she was hoping to take part of.

The next island, her home island, was a place she wasn't too fond of. The people were crap. The food was crap. The local alcohol wasn't worth a damn. Rusla debated the merits of having a flashback. On the one hand, that would waste a lot of time, but on the other hand, it made her appear to be a whiny angsty brat. Oh well! She felt like wasting time, and hope she could get away with it. Rusla finished up serving the stumbling customers and sat behind the counter. There's no way anyone would notice if everyone's drunk or busy! She remembered the time when she ran away from home. How hard it had been to find food! If she had taken up prostitution, this wouldn't have been such a-

"Rusla, what the fuck? Really. Stop angsting. It's embarrassing to watch. Every time a person angsts, god jacks off onto a puppy's face. So stop," admonished a coworker. "You should be thankful I'm not going to blackmail with this."

"Feh. I'm bored. And I'm not being angsty."

"Could've fooled me."

"Tch. I'll punch your face in."

"Oh hey everybody, look at me! I'm Rusla! I have a sad past and masochistic tendencies that are probably the result of that past! Screw your joy, I'm busy angsting in a corner!"

"Shut it." There was a slight hint of a threat, with an aftertaste of bloodlust.

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings? Why don't you run home and cry to mommy! Oh that's right, she kicked you out of the house! Poor Rusla!"

"That's it Cheryl, you're fucking dead."

The two girls proceeded to have a rather rough catfight. The men witnessing wolf whistled at the girls, and cheered them on.

"Tear her shirt off!"

"And her skirt! Whooo!"

Captain Kid cleared his throat then chuckled. Rusla stopped. Cheryl stopped.

"Oh, never mind me, please continue." Sneered Kid with a lecherous grin. The rest of the crew had their eyes glued to the scene. Rusla's shirt was about to fall off and her hair was a hot mess. Cheryl looked much better with her bra almost off.

"Well, it appears that Rusla won the fight… But Cheryl won our hearts!" Announced a man in the corner.

"Boss, can we go home and change?" Asked Cheryl.

"Yeeeaa- no." The manager added in a whisper "this might improve business."

Rusla shrugged. Cheryl pouted. The manager was right. Business doubled that night.

A many more pinches and wandering hands later, Rusla found herself sitting with the crew.

"I think our captain has made a fine choice!" piqued a degenerate with a mohawk.

"Ha."

"Hey! Can you make your elbows touch behind your back?" piqued another hopeful degenerate.

"Not falling for that."

"Dammit." Sighed the guys at the table.

"Hey Cheryl! Can you make your elbows touch behind your back?"

The rest of the conscious guys in the bar overheard this and started chanting, "DO IT! DO IT!"

"It's only fair. You lost the fight!" added Rusla.

"Fuck you." Cheryl went ahead and pulled her elbows as far behind her back as possible, resulting in her ample breasts jutting out.

"Hey captain! Let's get her to join! She has bigger boobs!"

"Nah." Laughed the fiery-headed captain.

"Tch, one doesn't need boobs to be sexy! Besides, I bet her's are fake."

"ARE NOT!"

"Whatever."

"Demonstrate this sex appeal without massive cleavage please!" asked the mohawk degenerate.

"Tch, you're not the captain."

"As the captain, I ask that you do what he just asked." Sneered Kid. "Besides, you're the new girl. Expect a little hazing. Actually, demonstrate to each member of the crew how sexy you can be without massive cleavage!"

"No fucking way!"

"Denying an order from your captain?" The rest of the crew laughed. "Eh, whatever. Crew, you're welcome to cuddle her the rest of the night!"

Even more groping hands later.

"I'm a dumbass Cheryl. This crew has crazy fucking sex drive."

"They're sailors. What do you expect?" Cheryl wiped down her arm. "At least they didn't vomit or jack off on you."

"Well, I did witness an attempt. At jacking off, that is." Rusla wore a lecherous grin. "Can't say I'd fuck him, but I'm not disappointed. You know I enjoy my popcorn every now and then."

"Ah, that reminds me. The other day, I was at a theatre, and this woman orders popcorn. Except," Cheryl started laughing," except, she said COCKPORN!"

The girls had a good laugh. The night wasn't as crazy as previous nights in terms of the mess. A few dead bodies, a head (thanks Killer), and some spilled alcohol, but not nearly as many dead whores as the last couple of nights. "Perhaps there was some good in walking around in revealing outfits," contemplated Rusla. "Not that it matters. Tomorrow is my last night in this shit hole! I suppose I ought to follow up with that one guy. He had some good ideas for scaring the shit out of the locals of her shit village. A bunch of marines there, and that was a good enough excuse."

After finishing up with cleaning, the girls went home to sleep.

* * *

Ooh! Longer than usual here! Critiques on the fight scene are very much appreciated. Critiques in general are appreciated. On another note, don't feel compelled to review unless you found something that sucked. The chart that always increases dramatically on update days already tells me that I have a good handful of readers. I'm not going to spend much time describing Rusla's appearance. I find that the OC's in potentially romantic fanfics shouldn't be too heavily described. You guys have your own vision of who is best off in Kid's pants. As for the timeline, I'm setting this before the crew reaches the Grand Line. It's something I doubt Oda will expand on, so I'll have freedom without the guilty conscience of being extremely counter-canon. I'll probably expand on Killer's necrophiliac tendencies, but if you guys think that's a shitty idea... Well, you know what you have to do.


	6. Chapter 5

[1] quote from the first two lines of Macbeth's Tomorrow and tomorrow speech in the play _Macbeth_ by Shakespeare.

[2] paraphrased from _Endgame_ by Samuel Beckett.

[3] Solipsism, the belief that reality is a figment of your imagination, created to cope with the loneliness of existing alone. The significance of the joke is that no one else exists to accept solipsism as truth.

* * *

"I see a multitude in transports of joy" Clov speaking to Hamm in the play _Endgame_ by Samuel Beckett.

The Kid pirates slept in that day. They were mostly prepared. The shipwright had cleaned the ship's keel and rudder. The holes in the sails were patched. Food, water, and other "necessities" were stored. All that was left was the new girl and girls. The raid would occur early tomorrow morning. Killer woke up early and scouted the route the crew would take on their whore raid. He walked over to where they fought the slimy feeders.

There was a small amount of satisfaction of returning to the scene of a fight, especially one that was fought to the death, no matter the strength of the opponent. Granted, the stronger the opponent, the sweeter the memory, but this monster had her charms. There was a small bit of truth in Rusla's words. Things or events that are grotesque and frightening are indeed erotic. And so Killer basked in the eroticism of that nightmarish beast.

In Jonathan's household, a toad had gotten loose and was jumping around the kitchen, only to be eaten by the family dog. Jonathan's wife Elena was cleaning the gore out of the dog's mouth while showing the kids the various internal organs of a toad.

"Would you like to pay a visit to Rusla today?"

"Why on earth would I do that? She's an asshole. A charming asshole, but still an asshole. Now boys, never talk like your mother, you hear?"

"You'd forgive her jerk behavior for the worldly gossip she offers. And today is the last day she will be in town."

"Oh, so she'll be moving again. Che, maybe I'll bump into her on a merchant ship. Now Leo, these little string like things here are intestines. Now do you see that lovely, transparent membrane?"

"Yes mom." A little boy responded, with lively eyes that were glued to his mother's lesson.

"That is called mesentery. It keeps your intestines from unraveling in your stomach. Here, hold it. Isn't it pretty?"

"It sure is mom!"

"Ooohhh let me see that!" Sam looked into Leo's hands.

Jonathan cleared his throat. "Rusla decided to join with some pirates."

"Lies. Heresy. Rusla is too bitchy about her independence to submit to someone."

"She's also too lazy to complain."

"That's true too. I suppose we'll go ahead and visit her in a little bit"

"Hey mom! Can we be pirates?"

"No." Husband and wife spoke at the same time.

Kid wandered through the shoddy sides of town, picking fights with the hobos and local gangsters. He was bored. A slim and shady man walked up to him with his swagger on and started busting some rhymes. The rhymes went something along the lines of

"Now this is a story all about how my life got flipped turned upside down,

And I'd like to take a minute, just shut up man,

and I'll tell you how I became the strongest man of this land."

Kid was confused.

"In the South Blue sea I was born and raised,

On a marine ship was where I spent most of my days.

Chillin and workin out with the men of the crew

When a couple of pirates who were totally ape shit

Started makin' trouble on the battle ship!"

Kid kept staring not knowing whether to attack or leave.

"I disobeyed one little order and my dad got p-oed

He said 'you're movin to little shithole in Urdo'

I waited for a boat, and when it came near

The sails said "Fresh" and there were dice in the rear.

And I thought to myself, this boat's funny, Yo home to Mundi!"

Kid was too entertained to punch this guy.

"We pulled up to port around seven or eight,

And I yelled to the sailor, 'yo home! Smell ya later!'

Looked at my shithole, I was totally mad.

But when I became the strongest, I was finally glad."

Kid burst out laughing. "That was retarded. Beyond words."

The slim, shady man threw a punch at him. Kid countered with an uppercut and broke the man's jaw.

"Your music… Is shit."

Kid walked off. If that was the strongest guy on the island, then he was in for a lot of disappointment. But then again, that guy was probably spewing bullshit.

At some point in the early afternoon, Rusla dragged herself out of bed. She was a woman on a mission. She had shit to do, for once. She worked out, went through her daily ablutions, got dressed, so on and so on. As she went through this, the narrator debated the pros and cons of giving a giant block paragraph devoted to the latest piece of whoreshit that Rusla is wearing. This whoreshit was probably bought at a store like Hot Topic, where kids who want to pretend to be rebellious could dress up in Che Guevara shirts while talking about suburban life's pain. Rusla finished getting dressed, whatever that looked like. Having wasted enough time in the apartment, Rusla packed up most of her belongings and made her way to the ship. She was greeted by a degenerate, the same degenerate who fully complied with his captain's hazing orders last night.

"Hey you! Yeah, I'm just going to call you Degenerate One. Or D-One for short. Where's my quarters, bud?"

"I have a name. Jeez. Anyway, follow me."

D-One lead her to a room that had barely enough space for a bed, but at least it was her room. As she put her belongings away, she checked the walls for support beams. She could put in shelves to maximize storage, and have her mattress over some storage bins. The alcohol could go there. The space was measured for shelving. Rusla left the ship to pick up furniture.

Jonathan and his existentialist wife walked over to Rusla's shithole apartment.

"Looks like we missed her. Too bad."

"She told me yesterday that she was leaving tomorrow."

"Having yesterday and tomorrow in the same sentence doesn't work out too well. Ah, yesterday!" His wife Elena declared in an elegiac voice.

"Reading up on existentialism lately?"

"Yes I am! Once again! And I will read it again tomorrow, and tomorrow-"

" and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day."[1] Jonathan finished.

They smiled.

"Hmm, do you want me to tell you a joke?" Elena asked her husband as they made their way through town.

"Is it the tailor joke?"

"Yes!"

"Ah, my favorite!"

They walked towards a shoddy part of town.

Elena started, her voice like a narrator. "A tailor needing a pair of trousers for New Year's festivities goes to his tailor."

Her voice now imitating a man's. "There sir, that's good. Come back in a four days"

The voice of a narrator. "And so the man comes back."

"I'm so very sorry, I've made a mess of the seat. Come back in a week"

"Very well, a neat seat is very ticklish."

"He returns."

"I'm sorry sir, it seems I've made a hash of the crotch. Come back in ten days"

"Very well, a snug crotch is always a teaser. Ten days later."

"I'm sorry, but I've made a balls of the fly. Come back in a fortnight"

"Very well, at a pinch, a smart fly is a stiff proposition."

"Well, to make it simple, the bluebells are blowing and he ballockses the buttonholes"

"God damn you to hell sir! No sir, it's indecent! God made the world in seven day! Seven days, sir! No less sir! And you can't make me a decent pair of trousers in three months!"

"Oh but sir, my good sir, look at the world." Elena gestured to the filth and poverty of the poorer streets, "then look at my TROUSERS!" [2]

The couple smile at the joke. Jonathan lets out a small chuckle.

"The joke is said too often, love. We need a new one." Spoke Elena.

"Mhmm. Have you ever considered solipsism? It's a great idea! I wonder why others don't accept it!" [3] remarked Jonathan.

They laugh.

"Good one, love. Good one."

While walking, they run into Kid. Jonathan asks Kid on Rusla's whereabouts, and Kid hadn't a clue. Actually he did have a clue. She might've headed towards the ship. With this in mind, the couple walked towards the dock.

Lo and behold! The couple ran into Rusla. They chatted, walked around, discussed memories. Elena warned her about drinking around sailors. Rusla mentioned the possibility of the crew getting a harem. Elena then warns her of crabs and syphilis. Jonathan mentioned his few possible sailing trips and a hope that pretty much translates into them crossing paths at some point in the story. Elena continued nagging in a motherly fashion, warning Rusla not to make an ass of herself in front of the pirates. Then she stated worry that she may have already done this.

"Go home and water your kids, Elena. I've got some preparations to make."

They parted.

Rusla bought her shelving and got the crap installed. No one on ship seemed to complain or notice. By the time she finished, it was about time to report for her last night at Blue Moon.

* * *

I got concerned earlier, when a reviewer commented something along the lines that my story is so super-special-awesome that she couldn't find anything to critique. To try and fix this, I've referenced some works you people should read/might've already read. I'll add to this list a book called _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ by Oscar Wilde. Now, my little reader minions, take note of any flaws in wording or sentence structure of my chapters. My fear is greatly increased because I crap this stuff out at 1-3 in the morning, maybe even later. I don't double check it manually or even use spell check. So there is something wrong somewhere in my story, and I'll train your reader minions to find it somehow. Maybe my story lacks logic or sentence variety. I know you guys are used to the crap writings of the 13 year old girls on here. Get past this limitation! Seek finer writing! Be a taste tester for it! Conquer the world!

Oh, I hope you enjoyed my Fresh Prince parody. CRAPPED OUT IN TEN MINUTES. WOOT.


	7. Chapter 6

"Came out of Yakzies(I miss that place), stood on a pile of old snow that was frozen solid, then I slid UNDER a parked cab. I bounced up, guessed nobody saw me, Wrong, they all started cheering." – A random bastard on a forum

It was the last night before the whore raid. That night, the pirates went ahead and hired the whores they intended to steal for that evening. The boys who were to raid the brothel remembered the appearance and name of every whore present. There were the stereotypical busty blondes, a cute preteen or two, the brunette chick who gave the best blow jobs, a couple of BDSM girls, another girl who supposedly had the tightest ham pocket in town, and also a girl who was willing to do anything: bestiality, scat, and torture that not even the other BDSM girls would comply with.

Killer debated the idea of keeping a dead body on board. Nah, the smell would become a problem in a few days, and he wasn't all that horny anyway. His management of his desires was something he was proud of. He could stay proud and stoic for weeks, sometimes months, without any desire to screw around. One of the crew with an especially low tolerance for alcohol was now stumbling through the room, babbling nonsense and eventually crashing into their new crew mate. Now how would she react? Nothing spectacular. He hoped she would have a massive outburst that would cause some sort of massive fight for no apparent reason, but no. She just shoved him onto the nearest couch and continued to talking to the guy in the corner. The man looked somewhat familiar. Ah well, doesn't matter to him. Killer continued watching over the crew. Many of the guys had gotten quite comfortable with their whores in various, out of the way corners in the bar. The bar was already dimly lit as is. He wondered what difference it made to sit in a corner to screw. Perhaps the false sense of privacy made the girls more compliant. Perhaps his crew mates weren't as impressive as they claimed. Now some idiot without a leg was attempting to dance on the table. Killer was getting bored and tired. He let out a long yawn and noticed a few locals abusing a whore in the corner. The guy who was screwing her suddenly pulled out and came in his hand. When the whore turned around, he threw his seed in her face and shouted, "BAM!" It was almost funny. Almost. No. Actually, it wasn't funny at all. Killer let out another yawn and put his head down on the table. If there was a guy here that wasn't a damned cripple or raving lunatic and wasn't part of his crew, then he could get a good fight in or two. Screw it, he'll just go beat up a loony.

"Oi, Killer. You look bored. I'm running low on booze money. How about we go raid a few bastards?"

Killer nodded and followed his captain out of the bar and stepped out into the cool air.

"Not that Killer could enjoy it," thought the captain, "especially with that ridiculous mask." His drinking earlier led to his thoughts being scattered and all over the place. Despite this, Kid came up with the brilliant idea of robbing a few pimps, so the marines wouldn't get involved. If Kid had a little less alcohol, his head might've been clear enough to realize that the pimps would send their own men after his crew. These men were the kind of men that wielded steel baseball bats which broke people's shins and puppy's faces.

The pair slashed open pockets, stole money bags, cheated whores of their due payments, pulled money from the thong of an exotic dancer, and inevitably killed a few of the poor bastards. The pimps were furious like angry hornets. However, these men were weak fucks who had to pay off strong fucks to beat up their attackers. The strong fucks, which in fact they were as the whores could promptly testify to this, stalked the two pirates, hoping to corner them in an alley. Such an encounter was not meant to be, and the strong fucks found themselves at Blue Moon Bar. They scanned the room and found their victims surrounded by men's three joys in life: women, booze, and food. One of the strong fucks attempted to slash Kid, but a degenerate sporting a mohawk drunkenly pushed the attack away from his captain. Killer noticed the unfortunate strong fucks. Alas, poor strong fuck. I never knew him. Strong fuck's fellow strong fuck companions began to reek of fear and made a mad dash out the door.

Rusla was still speaking with the man in the corner. Killer decided to listen in out of boredom.

"… blow up the marine base stationed in Barzak. You should probably use something that'd make a pretty explosion." Whispered the man.

"Hai, hai. So let me get this straight. In the next few days, a ship loaded with a variety of explosives will arrive at Ejrah port?" asked Rusla.

"Correct. It will be loaded onto a wagon and taken through-"

"Now wait. The marine base is on a river so it can have a hold on the towns' water supply. Why not just put the explosives on a barge and send it up the river to be exploded at the marine base? It's cheaper and-"

"faster, I know. But security has increased over the last few months. Even if we manage to kill the security guards, there is a good chance the base will be alerted and evacuated by the time the barge reaches base. We wouldn't have the shock value of added deaths. A high mortality rate is more discouraging to potential marines than an easily avoided, failed, bombing attack that could potentially increase patriotism." Reasoned the man.

Rusla nodded in agreement and left the table.

"New girl, you certainly have some peculiar hobbies. Not that we have any problem with it, but we would like to at least be aware when you indulge. None of us would appreciate getting caught in the middle of them," commented Killer as he walked towards her.

"Really? I think most men would enjoy catching me in the middle of my hobbies…" Killer chuckled at her response. "Heh, I understand. But assuming you guys try and play smart and avoid drawing attention to yourselves, there shouldn't be too much trouble. Just don't hang around a marine base. I have a tendency to wreck those."

"Hehehe, this crew can't make many promises on that." Kid joined in on the conversation.

Meanwhile, in another bar far away…

"I just can't believe the skill of that bastard!" A strong fuck wearing a clean pair of pants rambled. "He wiped the floor with this guy!" The strong fuck took a swig of his drink. "I bet his mask gives him some sort of power or something. Maybe he got a devil fruit. His captain," he took another gulp of his piss beer, "sure look like a devil."

"Naw, naw. No fackin way," said his drunk, strong fuck comrade who was also sporting a clean pair of pants. "Y'see, I betcha, little mask boy there is takin' the capt'n in the ass. I bet he boss that lil' devil boy around."

"No, I bet it's the other way around! How else do you keep a bastard like that in check?"

The two strong fucks laugh nervously.

"Aw shit man. What we do?" asked the second strong fuck.

"Well, we could hire a whole bunch of skilled bastards to get on their case."

"Or we could blow them out of the water with a cannon. I don't care who the fuck you are. I'm Charles. I actually get a name in this story so I'm clearly far more important than you. You're just a couple of comic relief characters who will probably die soon or be removed from the story."

"Wait wha?" the strong fucks said in unison.

"Shut up. I have something important to say. I am giving you the opportunity to make something of yourselves. A day or so ago, my bar's reputation was tarnished by a devilish pirate boy. The cleanup effort cost me quite a sum of money. From various whisperings, rumors, and bribes, I've come to the conclusion that these pirates will leave early tomorrow morning. I want you to wreck their sails or something. Anything to stall them long enough until the cannon I ordered arrives. That will be around lunch time. See? The job isn't too difficult. If you time it right, you won't have to face those two, troublesome members of the crew. If you're even luckier, you might manage to steal some loot. All while avoiding the possible death sentence that the narrator might give you."

The strong fucks stared at the man, completely and utterly confused.

"So we gettin' money right?"

"Oh of course. A million belli for each of you."

"Then we accept."

"Good!" Charles then handed each strong fuck a heavy suitcase.

"And you know what man? We are fuckin important! We are big shit! You say we don't have no name? Man, I prove ya wrong! My name is-"

Back at the Blue Moon Bar…

Killer was sitting rather awkwardly as his two sloshed crewmates grilled him about his fetishes.

"I know tha guy! He start on BDSM, went to some barely legal torshur to illegal torshur to watchin people kill peoples to killin people! Damn right he's a necrophilih! I shoulda caught it earlier!" Kid barely managed to say this coherently.

"Kid, that's your 15th mug of booze. You need to stop."

Killer's complaint fell on deaf ears.

"Don't feel left out Killer-san. I have weird fetishes too! Not as weird as yours," said a cherry-faced Rusla.

"Mmm, wha?" drawled Kid, wearing a lecherous smirk. His eyes soon closed and he drifted into sleep. Kid managed to conveniently fall asleep on Rusla's shoulder. Killer looked at her expectantly (not that anyone could tell), waiting for the narrator to guide Rusla into a potential sexual situation. However, the narrator decided she was far too lazy to write out an intimate scene and also decided that an intimate scene at this point in Rusla's relationship to Kid would be out of character and rather Mary Sue for both of them.

"What. I'm only letting him do this because his coat has got to be the fluffiest goddamn thing I have ever touched in my existence. I'm tempted to steal it."

"Oh," was all Killer could say.

"Where'd he get this damn thing? It's so fucking comfy! It smells like it too. No, not that homey vanilla scent or some pleasant shit. This thing smells like he never takes it off. So, eh, what the fuck? No hygiene?"

"That's because he doesn't. The last time it was washed was probably when it belonged to the last owner. He was the head of some yakuza. This was back when I could easily make fun of the captain and kick him around." Killer recalled, savoring the good old days of kicking Kid into the ship railing and making fun of his illiteracy.

"Ha. I wish I could do that. Kick this fluffy bastard around. I probably steal his coat. And clean the goddam thing. Anyway, what's happening tomorrow that makes it necessary for me to be on the ship so early in the morning."

"He took your advice. We'll be having a whore raid. Routes have been planned; people have been selected for the mission."

"Ah."

That seemed to mark the end of the conversation. Kid somehow managed to crack an eye open, open enough for him to find his way out the door. The rest of his not-remotely-sober crewmates followed him out, with Killer kicking anyone who lagged behind.

Rusla stared off into space for a bit before getting a sharp reprimand from her boss.

"Hey boss-man! It's my last night here. I'll help you guys clean this shit up, but I'd like to get my money and get paid."

"Well then, I'll need to run home real quick and get your money then. You clean this shit up in the meantime."

Rusla was left alone. The payment she'd get wouldn't pay for the alcohol she intended to carry on to the ship.

The owner returned to an extraordinarily clean bar. Too clean, in fact. The shelves were bare; the drawers were empty. Not a drop of alcohol in the room. He spotted a note on the counter.

"Boss-man:

I'm an asshole.

XOXO,

Rusla"

The owner's rage reached fever-pitch. He alerted marines, who didn't see this as any great loss. He found his regulars, who were too drunk or too crazy to care. Exposure to such insane people on a daily basis could affect one's mental processes. The owner walked into a local convenience store and bought a six pack and a container of fuel.

He doused everything in the bar, torched it. He sat across the street, laughing, watching it burn, all Halloween orange and chimney red…

Rusla managed to hide the best of the alcohol in her room, saving a tiny space for clothes. What she didn't hide was made into a kind gift for the crew, though they were too drunk to notice. After putting away her belongings, Rusla fell asleep.

* * *

Ah. An update. It sure has been a while, eh? No, I'm not Canadian. I'm not of the U.S. of Eh.

Anyway, I hope Poseida Lunar doesn't mind the reference to her fic, not that she seems like the person who'd bitch about that. Go read it, though I bet most of my readers already have. It's called Devil's Luck. It features KidxKiller, something that needs to happen more often.

The description of the barman burning down the bar was based off of Tom Wait's song, Frank's Wild Years.

I feel like my chapters aren't well connected. Once again my readers, feel free to bitch if you agree.

I'm hoping to finish the story off by the time the crew reaches Alba Peaks. However, in my timeline, that would be in a few weeks. That doesn't seem like enough time for Rusla and Kid to bond as I promised in the summary. The reason for the rush to finish this is that I want to move onto short, disconnected stories with Rusla and the crew. It would be like the Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. You're familiar with the characters, there's no exact timeline, blah blah blah. But doing that would limit character development. Feel free to post your thoughts on this.


	8. Chapter 7: Raid of the Trollops

Thank you reviewers. Sorry for the delay- it was 2/3 laziness and 1/3 trying out a new format, a play! Oh what fun! Try and catch the references and sexual innuendos. The references are listed at the bottom. So, see how many you catch, then check at the bottom and feel special or not so special. Tell me about any errors. I didn't clean this up as perfectly as I'd like, as I already caught a few.

Oh and Kidd fic writers- did you enjoy that almost curveball that Oda threw at us! We should've known!

* * *

**Raid of the Trollops**

A Play in Five Acts

Characters:

Eustass Kidd

Killer

Rusla

Strong Fuck I

Strong Fuck II

Sir Charles

Prostitute Hebe

Prostitute Justine

Mistress Desgranges

Mistress Duclos

Religious Woman

Kidd Pirates

Marines

**Act One**

[_It is early morning. Smoke rises from the edge of the town and the embers of Blue Moon Bar glow in the early morning sky. Captain Kidd, Killer and a few crewmembers are preparing for a raid._]

KIDD PIRATES: O captain! The hand of the clock rises as do the members of your crew. When do we raid?

EUSTASS KIDD: It's too damnably early and loud to be doing anything!

KILLER: Are you certain? I think I should speak louder; with such little sleep, I doubt you could hear me.

EUSTASS KIDD: Bastard.

[_Eustass Kidd rubs his eyes._]

Men, you know your jobs. Group one, you will raid the north half of the first floor. Group two, you are to the south. Group three, keep the pimps quiet.

[_The Kidd pirates disperse. Kidd and Killer walk back through the ship where they catch a few men wrecking their ship._]

STRONG FUCK I: That should do it.

STRONG FUCK II: Tha' shit oughtta keep em grounded for a' least the next couple- Shit brotha! Move!

KILLER: Dammit. Almost caught them. You'd think that after nearly dying at our hands, they would leave. Captain?

EUSTASS KIDD: Goddammit Killer. Didn't I say it was too early in the morning. Especially after all I had gotten last night.

KILLER: I'm pretty sure you didn't get anything.

EUSTASS KIDD: The drinks, Killer, the drinks.

KILLER: That's entirely what I meant, captain. You have quite the dirty mind. I'll purchase sails for the ship. You should lie down. There should be a good stock of medicine for the nausea on board.

RUSLA: GOOOoooooOOOODDD MORNING captain!

EUSTASS KIDD: Be quiet. I need quiet. Please.

RUSLA: Some medicine, captain. Now would you like me to help Killer or stay here?

EUSTASS KIDD: I don't care… [_He rubs his eyes_.] Where'd Killer go?

RUSLA: I thought that since you've acquired the magnificent ability of hearing even the most delicate of sounds you would be able to hear Killer say he was heading into town to buy material for the sails.

EUSTASS KIDD: Well asshole, take me to him.

**Act Two**

[_Killer is at a stand that is selling large rolls of fabric. About five feet away stands the two strong fucks who are looking in the window of a shop that sells men's jewelry. As Rusla and Captain Kidd head towards Killer, Kidd recognizes them and uses his power to attract various iron objects towards the strong fucks._]

STRONG FUCK II: Aww shit brotha! You wanna fight, boy?

STRONG FUCK I: Oi, let's just try to get out of here soon.

STRONG FUCK II: I know man! Imma just go and distract em!

STRONG FUCK I: Yeah, I'm just going to leave now and-

[_Strong fuck I trips on Rusla's out stretched leg._]

RUSLA: Rejected!

EUSTASS KIDD: Oh look at that, Rusla. You did something useful and managed to stop these fuckers from leaving.

RUSLA: Tch.

KIDD PIRATES: O captain! We have gathered and put away the freshest produce.

We're quite thankful for this boon,

but we should warn you of the incoming marines that may take away our poon…

MARINES: Damned pirates! In the name of _justice_, surrender the hard working women and turn yourself in!

EUSTASS KIDD: No.

MARINES: Curses! Foiled again! We're going to start shooting at you guys now, and you can't do anything about it.

EUSTASS KIDD: Oh? It seems that your bullets are simply hanging in mid air.

MARINES: Wow. Amazing! We are impressed!

EUSTASS KIDD: And now you guys are dead. This island is full of idiots. Let's get going.

RUSLA: Hmm. You guys are pretty good at managing the situation.

KILLER: You could try to do something every once in a while. I know you are serving as a temporary navigator, but you could at least attempt not to act like dead weight.

[_Not too far behind the three pirates stands Lord Charles_.]

LORD CHARLES: You pirates had ruined my bar and its reputation. In return I shall ruin you and your reputation. It's certainly _Justice_, is it not? Ah, my dear Duclos, I will return and see you soon. For you are the most capable torturer I know.

**Act Three**

[_Mistress Duclos, an attractive woman in her forties, is standing in the brothel's courtyard with Mistress Desgranges. Desgranges is an old, withered woman plagued with diseases and horrific scars._]

DUCLOS: Ah, Desgranges. The morning is clear and today, I am to be paid. My lord is weary from travel and wishes at once to be laid.

DESGRANGES: The morning is too bright, Duclos. But to get away with a crime in this hour would be of highest glory. The ancients were always suspicious of this hour. Upon this very day, forty-three years ago, I killed my first child.

DUCLOS: Wicked woman, my Desgranges; though, the more gruesome the crime, the more delightful the memory.

DESGRANGES: The more gruesome something is, the more pleasure there is to be gained from it. Shall I tell you some stories of my life?

DUCLOS: Certainly. Should I return the favor?

DESGRANGES: Eventually.

Addicted to bestiality, my former customer watched on,

A stallion's cock entering a girl until it was gone.

Naturally, she dies, but only my customer's penis cries.

DUCLOS: Nicely worded, Desgranges.

DESGRANGES: I have another story.

My ungrateful mother heard of my crimes

And demanded that from my job I resign.

Grave offense I did take,

and swore to God her neck I'd break.

I tied her to a strong pole,

Her painful death my only goal.

I brought her a plate laden with cake.

Her hunger she could sate if only her neck didn't break!

DUCLOS: What a perfect and _just_ action! Your joy must have been immense at the time!

[_As the women cackle, a messenger approaches, handing them a letter._]

It appears that my lord has business for me.

DESGRANGES: Of what nature?

DUCLOS: Passionate and brutal. The usual. I'm dealing with a man this time. Maybe there's a little extra in it for me, if you know what I mean…

**Act Four**

[_Lord Charles directed the marines towards the pirates. Kidd and Killer continued killing off the marines who got crossed their path on the way to the ship. Before they reach the docks, the three pirates are blocked off by even more marines. The two strong fucks end up caught in the middle of this fight._]

EUSTASS KIDD: You bastards don't know when to quit do you?

[_Killer attempts to break through the marines blocking the docks, but more marines stand to take the place of their dead comrades_.]

RUSLA: Oi, Killer, can't you mow the fuckers down while Kidd just blocks the bullets with his devil fruit power?

KILLER: Oh, so you are also capable of planning? At least you aren't dead weight. We're still left with the problem of repairing the sails.

RUSLA: Damn. These docks were cheaply built- all wood, no iron or any of that.

[_Blinks a few times_.]

Oh, well of course, a large fire would-

[_A woman leans out of a window overlooking the fight. She spots the two strong fucks_.]

RELIGIOUS WOMAN: You bastards! You made my daughter a whore! You deserve to burn in hell!

RUSLA: Oh the fury the religious can get themselves worked into!

[_The religious woman empties the contents of a chamber pot on the head of Strong Fuck II then drops the chamber pot on him and kills him. Strong fuck I doesn't notice his dead comrade_.]

STRONG FUCK I: Oh, madam, I can assure you, she was the finest whore to have graced my thighs!

RELIGIOUS WOMAN: Godless monster!

[_She throws a roof tile at him, which fatally wounds him_.]

STRONG FUCK I: If we even manage a victory, we are undone. [_Dies_.]

[_Lord Charles arrives with a cannon and fires at Kidd's ship. Rusla pulls out a peculiar looking whip-like weapon and uses it to skew the path of the cannonball, making it miss the ship entirely_.]

KILLER: Not bad.

EUSTASS KIDD: So you can do more than just trip people. Good. Now handle that group of marines over there. Same with you Killer. We need to cut a path through these bastards.

[_A large explosion sets three buildings on fire. One building that sells gunpowder and cannonballs caught fire and exploded, setting the nearby buildings on fire. The fire rages on fueled by alcohol and wood_.]

RUSLA: Does that help any?

[_Eustass Kidd nods in approval_.]

RUSLA: You're welcome.

RELIGIOUS WOMAN: Help! My house is burning and I can't escape!

MARINES: Woman, we will help you!

[_The marines gather together outside of her window, and pile on top of each other, making a human staircase.]_

RELIGIOUS WOMAN: God bless you, young men!

MARINES: How can you say there is a God in a time like this?

RELIGIOUS WOMAN: Monsters!

[_She grabs a plate of hot ashes and embers and dumps them on the marine underfoot. He moves wildly in pain, causing the others in the human staircase to fall and lose balance_.]

[_In the confusion from the fire, Lord Charles makes a dash at Kidd and takes his goggles_.]

**Act Five**

[_Kidd chases after Lord Charles, and Killer and Rusla chase after Kidd. The chase leads them to a chamber beneath the brothel the Kidd Pirates had raided earlier. The walls are lined with various torture devices and the humid air is heavy with the scent of decaying flesh and feces_.]

RUSLA: The men at the bar occasionally spoke about a torture chamber in this area. The more indulgent men talked about their lovely experiences here. They can pay a bit of money to have themselves or a prostitute tortured. Every now and then, I hear about a cannibal or two coming down here. It's you kind of place, Killer.

KILLER: … You do value your life, right Rusla?

[_The trio walks further into the underground chambers. Two gates of seastone slam down, trapping them in an area filled with torture equipment. Before he can react, Kidd is chained to a rack, and another gate comes down, separating Kidd from Killer and Rusla. Duclos and Desgranges emerge at Kidd's section_.]

DUCLOS: My, my… What a fine specimen.

DESGRANGES: We can take our time with this man. There's quite a bit of pain these men can stand.

[_She turns and sees Rusla_.]

Hello there, my young terrorist.

I know that this may seem like a bit of a crisis,

but do not fear, I'll let you go.

You know I'm extreme, thanks to my vices,

So just sit here and enjoy the show.

[She turns back to Kidd.]

Poor man. Now you're damned.

DUCLOS: Desgranges, dear, could you get the tickler, the lead dripper, and the skinning knife.

[_A few minutes after Desgranges left the room, a loud crack is heard. A section of the gate falls before a grinning Rusla_.]

RUSLA: You got these gates from the marines, I see. You know, they stopped using this version because of how easy it was to break them. Too many separate parts you see. Push a little here, tug a little there, and then the whole thing comes loose.

[_Rusla's whip weapon separates into several segments, four of which move forward and pin Duclos to the wall_. _Rusla is holding another segment in her hand and approaches Duclos menacingly._]

Not let me make an example out of you.

DUCLOS: Girl, do you think this will break me! I have gone through more pain and suffering than you will in two lifetime!

RUSLA: Madame Duclos, you have always a figure of strength, pointless cruelty, and irresponsibility. I want to the world to know, no, I want the world to hear and see you as the weak-minded whore you are.

[_Rusla begins skinning Duclos. Kidd and Killer watch on in faint amusement and interest. Rusla has finished with most of her left arm, yet Duclos hasn't made a cry or whimper. Rusla steps back to admire her work then she walks across the room and finds a strange, heavy device. She pulls up a table and chair, and sets the device on it. Duclos is then dragged by Rusla over to the table_.]

Now Madame Duclos, your notable crimes include infanticide, matricide, patricide, fratricide, homicide, torture of children, torture of adults, torture of pregnant women, theft, and rape. Are you nothing more than a weak copy of Desgranges?

[_Very slowly_.] Do you think that mere satisfaction of pleasure is the only goal of life? Your life is a wasted existence of pain. You play the game, hoping that there might be some way to get the last laugh, the last major win. To go out with a bang! But there is no more embellishment of the old stories. The glory you felt when you committed your first crime is gone, yet you do more and more grotesque acts for the hope that maybe you could feel that rush once more. . . But you never will. The rush and joy of such simple bodily pleasures is gone.

[_Duclos' strong will breaks and she lets out a sob of pain_.]

DUCLOS: All for naught! All for naught! What did they see when they planted their tree? Mene, mene, dead bodies? What did I see when I did my deeds? When will it end? Will it never end?

DESGRANGES: [_Sneering_.] Pathetic, Duclos, truly pathetic. Does your raging fire become dying embers? Does your forest of life flood with the rain of tears or thrive in the moisture of passion? [_With fury_.] Not once did my crimes discourage my joy or my passion! No. They were fueled further by what I had done!

[_As he listens to Desgranges' speech, Kidd scowls_.]

Now Duclos, repent your foolishness.

RUSLA: [_With_ _a judge's voice and finality_.] Duclos, you committed ten crimes for no reason other than weak passion. People with such a weak constitution don't deserve a place in the sea. The current is harsh, and to hold your footing in such a flimsy purpose- mere, simple pleasure - will kill you. Thus, it is perfectly _justified_ for you to change your life's purpose or die in this very spot.

[_Rusla turns towards Desgranges_.]

As for you…

[_A segment from her whip pins Desgranges to the wall_.]

I'll deal with you all later.

[_Rulsa walks over to Kidd_.]

Killer, let's have a little race. Can you find the key to this before I break the chains? You may want to take Desgranges with you.

[_Rusla took apart a few more sections of the gate and released Desgranges. Killer takes Desgranges roughly by the shoulder and walks deeper into the chamber. Rusla starts to prod the chains with a segment of her whip, looking for small cracks that could open and release the chains_.]

EUSTASS KIDD: Since when does a barmaid know how to break prison walls, chains, has a screwy looking weapon, and match even the best arsonist at starting a fire? And how the hell do you know these people?

RUSLA: Pipe down. I'm trying to take this apart. Desgranges might've thrown away the key, you know. As for your notion that I'm just some barmaid, please remember the kind of people who frequented Blue Moon. An average barmaid couldn't last a day there. Another thing, you don't work there for the money.

[_One of the chains start to twist under Rusla's hands_.]

Ah, that one might break.

As I was saying, money is hardly the reason for someone to work there, except for possibly the owner. Everyone there is insane, has some grudge against a popular institution…

[_Rusla pauses for a bit_.]

Just go with the notion that anything I'm involved in won't cause you any problem between now and when you finished getting through the Alba.

EUSTASS KIDD: I'll hold you to that.

RUSLA: Hopefully not while you're wearing that stinky, spiky jacket. You could get impaled and infected on that thing, all at once.

EUSTASS KIDD: Watch your words Rusla.

RUSLA: Of course.

[_Small chuckle_.]

We're getting on.

[_The_ _chain link manages to twist out of shape and part of the chain comes apart. As this happens, Killer walks in with a key in one hand and Kidd's goggles in another. Desgranges is nowhere to be seen_.]

KILLER: Did I win?

RUSLA: Yeah. I only managed to get the left side to come loose. Where's the hag?

KILLER: She slipped away as I came back. There are a few marines on their way here, so she will probably get captured.

[_Killer unlocks his captain's shackles and hands him his goggles_.]

EUSTASS KIDD: Let's go. We still need to repair the sails and get the hell out of here.

RUSLA: There are enough frightful things here to keep the marines busy for a day, and the fire earlier is probably still going.

[_Kidd, Killer, and Rusla leave the torture chambers and get to the docks unchallenged. Bodies of a multitude of marines surrounded the dock that was destroyed by a few cannons that were fired to keep the marines away from the ship, with great success. Navigating the debris, the trio reached the ship. The sails were changed out in a few hours, and the crew left Urdo_.]

* * *

Some references you should catch:

Duclos and Desgranges are from de Sade's book, _120 Days of Sodom_. Not for the faint of heart or individual with a weak stomach.

The death of the strong fucks were based on the death of Pyrrhus. One version says that someone dropped a chamber pot on him. The most likely version has him dying from a roof tile falling on his head in the middle of a fistfight. One of Pyrrhus quotes was "Another victory like this will send me back without a man to Epirus", which he says after winning a costly battle against Rome. Hence, the term "Pyrrhic victory" which is a victory at great costs.

Duclos gives her statement, "Mene, mene dead bodies..."

"Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin" is what was written on the wall in the bible verse in the book of Daniel. Daniel deciphered it as meaning "counted, counted, weighed, divided."

The comment about the tree... Well, a true One Piece should be able to put the piece together and figure that one out.

Lastly, Rusla's "we're getting on" could mean that 1. things are happening, and the situation is moving or 2. a sexual comment akin to "getting it on"


	9. Chapter 8

Oh hey guys. Remember me? I could see why you don't. Anyway. I'm not on any legitimate hiatus, but I am in school. You know, that little bitch that takes up sixteen hours of your day? So my chapters may come all at once, when I have time, and then bam! You don't hear from me for nearly two months. Yeah. It effin blows. But don't fret. I don't plan on forgetting this fic anytime soon. I shall update and update and crap. Until it's done.

Warning: Killer's necrophilia acts up again. Consider this my way of testing the waters of sex writing.

So. Without any further ado...

* * *

Rusla retired to her cramped quarters, as did most of the pirates involved in the whore raid. The women obtained were confined to a small room filled with mildew and the rotten smell of urine and feces- fear has quite the odor, you know. The trip was so far uneventful. No marines. No enemy pirates. No sea beasts.

A couple of degenerates, who didn't take part in the morning's activities, discussed the glorious uses of the recently acquired women and the various ways of obtaining tattoos.

"Huh, huh huh. I wish some of them didn't have tattoos. Why aren't the girls born without tattoos made into prostitutes?" Asked Degenerate 1.

"Heh, you dumbass. You aren't born with tattoos. You get them when you fuck a seaman. That's why many of the marines have tattoos." Responded Degenerate 2.

"Huh. Huh huh huh huh. Then what about that one crewmember? The one with the, uh, thorny-like tattoos. Huh huh huh."

"Heheheh heh. Guess where his member been? It's, like, been in another member. Hehe. Hehehe. Did you catch that? It's, like, a penis is a member and then a crew member. Ha. Hehehehehe."

"Huh huhuhuhuhuh!"

The two degenerates started making obscene gestures at the various marine life that they spotted in the ocean. In fact, one of the degenerates decided to moon a poor dolphin, and in the process of bending over, he let out a great wind, the effects of which produced a death cloud in the sky that killed any creature passing through it. This death cloud also had the misfortune of attracting another form of marine life, the kind with tattoos, guns, and pretty, white uniforms. The marines were very worried about the environment. In fact, they even cut the use of cannons due to concerns of increasing greenhouse gasses. Sengoku and the admirals considered this to be a rather inconvenient truth. And so, the marine ship, with a small carbon footprint, set off with the hopes of finding the source of this environmental menace.

This marine ship, also known as the Green Marine Machine, was armored with steel plates and blades. The coal and iron used were gathered from eco-friendly mines that made minimal damage to the surrounding environment and used the coal dust and waste as an energy source that was heavily filtered so it could burn clean. The sails were heavily decorated with the flags and symbols of many cultures, a tribute to the wonderful equality that should be present among all people. Manning the cannons were handicapped men- it was only fair that the handicapped people of this world get a job that tends to favor healthy males. Not that it truly mattered since the cannons were rarely used. The leaders of the ship were all women- no chauvinist male domination here!

With sophisticated machinery that produced the same results no matter what data was put in, the eco-friendly marines found a pirate crew a little south of the Kidd pirates. The pirate crew was obliterated with great pomp. Unfortunately for Kidd's crew, the degenerate let out another divine wind. As a young, gay marine dined on a delicious vegan meal while cheering on his superior female leader, a large pelican, who was supposedly endangered, fell dead upon the young man's plate. A transgendered marine sitting a few chairs away was graced with a dead carrion feeder. This brought up a great debate on the pros and cons of veganism. Of course, the eco marines could not find anything wrong with it. Animals clearly deserved a life as free as any man- man was little more than a fancy animal.

"All women and men to the deck!"

"Now, that was a tad cumbersome. It is grammatically acceptable to simply say m-" This poor, politically incorrect chap was promptly hauled off to the prisoners' chambers by his female superiors. It should be added that this young man found this as worrisome as it was erotic.

The blue and white clad soldiers of justice marched up onto the deck, arranging themselves in boy-girl order so as to appear equal and tolerant of gender. The female superiors barked orders as loud as, or perhaps louder, than Sengoku himself.

The women led the charge, proclaiming women's rights when it suited them, expecting shields of honor and the shields of able-bodied men for protection. The marine ship attempted to slam into the pirates. Unfortunately, the construction of the ship was quite poor. The builders of the ship, you see, didn't feel the need to work as hard since they would get the same pay and stay on the same job regardless of quality of labor. The blades came loose and merely scratched the finished on the side of the pirate ship. Since this failed, the women and men resorted to using the "Raven". The Raven was a plank with a large hook on the end of it that attached to the enemy ship and allowed the marines to run onto and raid the pirate ships, or civilian ships if they were feeling brutal enough. Naturally, this was a damning mistake on the part of the marines. Killer lazily pulled out his scythes and stared at them, daring them to take a step forward. His captain walked onto the deck and yawned.

"What are you bastards waiting for? Your balls to drop? C'mon. Go already. I'm bored." Kidd sneered.

Finally, one of the marines' balls did drop. He shot first and died first. The rest of the lot took a step back. The two Kidd pirates took two steps forward. The marines to three steps back. The two Kidd pirates took four steps forward.

Kidd's left hand outstretched.

"Repel."

The ship was smashed into the sea with such strength that the sloppily shaped ship split into several sections. All of this destruction occurred whilst Rusla slept in her little shithole.

Killer's head turned towards the right with great disgust.

"What's the source of this stench?"

"Huhuhuhuhuh, we had too many of the can beans sur."

Killer turned sharply and left. You would expect that his dealing with corpses would have him used to the odors…

Kid walked off and made his way to the kitchen where he had some ale and fell asleep.

* * *

A poor miss trapped within the female cage grew ill with cholera. The conditions the stolen girls stayed in weren't especially good for them. The first one to notice this was Killer. He toyed with the notion of enjoying her corpse when she passed, but then realized that there was a potential for the cholera bug to transfer while fooling around. The more he thought about it, the more thankful he was that he hadn't caught anything weird from the corpses he misbehaved with. All necrophilia aside, he decided to force the girls to clean their living quarters. The girl with cholera was killed and thrown into the ocean. Such a waste of pretty flesh, the masked man thought. Cleaning supplies and other items necessary for decent hygiene were left in the girls' cage. One girl, a pretty one aged 15, was dragged away by Killer with the claim that she also had cholera. His crewmates went along with the lie, snickering to each other the moment they were out of Killer's sight.

A board with various cuffs and straps for tying a person down, kept hidden in Killer's room, restrained the girl. He gave her a drug, an opiate, which made her drowsy. With a hazy stare, she saw, but did not feel, Killer make shallow cuts on her wrists and thighs. Her world slowly faded away. Her body began to cool.

Two knock and the door opened. Killer cursed and reached for his scythes and covered the girl with a sheet. He faced his intruder with a murderous air.

"Sorry to intrude on your fun, Killer-san," Rusla spoke smoothly, "Really, relax. I've done worse, but that's a story for another time. Oh, you look good without a shirt. But that is all beside the point. The girl this morning had cholera. Is this a result of their conditions or do we have a contaminated water supply?"

Still exuding his murderous aura, "I doubt it was the water supply, but if you need something to do, feel free to boil all of it again. Get out."

"Mhm. Have fun~"

Rusla left.

Killer turned back to his work and snarled. Getting interrupted always wrecked his libido, but how he could let such a body go to waste. He bolted the door shut. The pants came off, then the underwear. With almost a sort of reverence, he slipped off his mask. He pressed his lips to hers. Still warm. Killer sat above her thighs and slowly drew his hands down her bare body. His right hand stop at her breast. His fingers brutally closed around her small breast. He tore at it. The skin ruptured and the blood ran down his hand. Killer licked the iron fluid. Satisfied, he gripped his member, which had begun to rise to the occasion. The blood, serving as a lubricant, allowed him to slip between her thighs with little effort. His hand gripped her waist with skin-tearing force. With an animalistic lust, he drove himself into her, with more pressure, and his hands tearing the flesh off her hips. He climaxed. His finger dripped with her blood, and pieces of the girl were trapped beneath his nails. The room stank of blood and sex. Though spent, he had enough energy to clean the body which was then wrapped tightly to slow down spoilage. Killer hated the scent of a decaying body. It was absolutely revolting. There was something aesthetically pleasing about a freshly killed body. The scent of a life just lost barely minutes ago and the blood, still running like ribbons down the victim's body, gave him satisfaction that was almost spiritual. Some artists would say that a being is most beautiful before its destruction, and to Killer, a human being was no different. He could wrap the body and do what he could to preserve its freshness, but it would never be like the first hour. That sublime first hour after Little Sister Death had been guided to his victim by his hand…

He grew enraged with himself for a moment. The hatch of the window was opened and bits and pieces of the girl's body were dumped into the ocean. How could he? How could he give in after a mere few days? Killer threw out another chunk of the girl, possibly her shoulder. Breathing hard and trying to regain his cool, Killer walked off to his private bathroom. Ah, the perks of being one of the highest bounties on ship.

Rusla watched the chunks of flesh float down and disappear into the ocean. She bumped into her captain.

"Good morn' sir. Is Killer bipolar?"

"Hn."

"Well, thank you for your useful response."

Rusla went back to sipping tea and watching Killer's toy fall piece by piece into the sea. When the last piece disappeared in the waves, she left the railing and walked back to the kitchen. She threw herself onto a couch opposite Kidd and stared at him until he looked up. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Cap'n Kidd, the next island we will visit is filled a shitload of religious nuts. With that said, these bastards are a little quick to call the marines. The extent you wish to harass them is up to you."

Kidd went back to his meal. Rusla reclined on the sofa across him and continued sipping her tea slowly. The room was quiet except for the sound of Kidd's utensils hitting the plate.

"I'm surprised you got rid of your place in Urdo. You know, you'll only be on this ship until we get through Alba."

"Hn."

"The hell kind of answer is that?"

Rusla smiled and focused on the cup in her hand.

"You seem to be fond of explosives."

"What gave you that idea?"

"Our little conversation back at the bar."

"Oh. I thought you were too drunk to remember any of that."

"So what exactly are you going to do? Just so we don't have to deal with any potential errors."

"Well, I'm going to send a cart full of napalm and some other goodies to a marine base. If I'm lucky, I also might end up inciting a rebellion up north. A good dose of chaos. That's all."

"Now how the hell is my crew supposed to deal with all this shit?"

"Hmm, well you could get your ship stocked early, and just be ready to run later."

"Well, Miss Rus, you are not the captain of the ship. You cannot make such drastic decisions. I find your little prank on the marine base humorous, but I'm not allowing you to do anything beyond that."

"Yessir."

Kidd focused back on his meal and Rusla went back to her cup of tea.

* * *

A few days after Killer's libido went out of control…

"Huhuhuhuh! Land HO! HO! Huhuhuh. Hoes. LAND HO GUYS! Shouted out Degenerate 2.

Rusla, who was napping far below deck didn't hear shit.

Kidd stood near the rail, looking at the distant land.

Killer reclined against a wall, with one eye cracked open (not that anyone could tell), looking at the land.

A good portion of the crew was on the deck, looking at the land.

And what did these bastards see?

An oversized billboard that must have covered most of the island, saying

_**"BECOME A DORNON!**_

_**REMEMBER REEBUS SAVES!**_

_**REEBUS LISTENS**_

_**ALL PRAISE REEBUS!"**_


	10. Chapter 9: Points of View

Oh hey! Another chapter up. Pretty neat huh. Sorry if it's a little shittier than usual. If there are any super loose ends in this story, anything that needs a-fixing, mention it in the reviews. Much thanks to the last two reviewers, especially Poseida Lunar for reviewing most of the chapters. I'd return the favor, but unfortunately I suck balls.

* * *

Rusla walked the streets of Ejrah, waiting for the merchant ship with the smuggled explosives to finish loading. As she paced around town, she debated the morality of her actions. Rusla came to the conclusion that is all just a matter of your point of view…

* * *

**Marine janitor's POV:**

Ah. I finally finished sweeping that damn meeting room, but I bet one of the jackasses left something behind somewhere will come here, bringing all his filth with him, and ruining the perfect damn job I did of cleaning this hell hole. Whooey. I'm so glad thought readers and thought crimes aren't an issue.

Hmm? The delivery truck is rather early today. The bastards up front can handle that. Maybe I can sneak pass the kitchen on the way to the supply room and pick up a donut.

"Oh hi Ron! How's it going? Anyway, the backroom looks like hell, can you help clean it up"

"Sure thing sir!"

The bastards. Help clean it up? More like, I do all the goddamn work will you eat all the goddamn donuts. Whooey. Well, the delivery truck is supposed to be coming in. Maybe I can snag some of the shit that they are loading. Aha. The kitchen. THE FUCK?

No donuts.

Bastards.

Hmm. Well maybe these lazy cooks have a muffin. I want a muffin. Let's see here…

"Yo! Ron!"

"Eeh?"

"Can you help clean up the kitchen?"

"Not immediately. I'm needed in the backroom to help clean the place up so they can unload stuff." Damn bastards. Always expecting me to do shit. Nothing but shit. I come home and then shit. Stupid slut wife. Stupid goddamn spawns. Damn wife always refusing condoms and now I have to pay for all these baby bitches. I bet the whore is probably fucking the local preacher. Hell, I bet half those kids ain't mine anyway. And still I have to pay for them.

"Oi, Ron. You're kinda squishing your muffin in your hand there. It's no biggie. You kinda need to lay off the carbs anyway. Well. Many of us do."

Well, well Mr. Cook. And you suppose saying that we're all fat will lighten the insult? Well fuck you.

I smiled at the shmuck. "Eh? Whooey. I sometimes lose track of things and actions. Thanks for the warning about my muffin and my health. If you don't mind I might as well heed your advice and throw this thing away."

"Ah, don't worry about it, Ron. I'll just throw it out the window for the birds."

"Sure."

Now. Back to my shit. The same shit I've been doing for the past year. God damn. This place looks like crap.

"Hey there Ron! The truck here is unloading some supplies. Can you help us clear up some space?"

Help? More like I move and you guys point me around. Whooey! This shit is heavy.

"Okay Ron. Put that crate o'er here."

Ron do this. Ron do that. And I never refuse. One day I will. One day, I'll say to them, 'to hell with you. I'm not doing this anymore.' And then they'll be pissed. They'll fire me. And I'll come home to my slut wife and tell her I lost my job. She'll scream up a storm. And I'll leave. Maybe I'll get me a little shack out somewhere…

"Thank you, Miss, for the delivery! Have a lovely day! Hey Ron. Can you help us move these crates."

That noise! So loud! The heat! The purest light I've ever seen! Is this it?

* * *

**Janitor's Wife POV:**

Damn that Ron. Why the hell'd I marry him? Ah hell. Misteh Javin is supposed to see me today. He's a pleasant one. He pay me about two hundred for the visit an' he's a nice fuck. Really. Big size, takes his time, never fail to give a 'gasm. Misteh Javin would have made a better hubby. He got the money, and he knows how to use he God-given gifts. I need to shoo the damn kids outta here.

"Hey Timmy, Kathy, Ali, Crystal! Go outside! Ya brats need to spend mo' time outside!"

The damn kids looked at each other. Not like they know anything. Stupid damn things.

Misteh Javin has a preference fo' red. I got these red silks panties and lingerie. I oughtta slip into those. Ha. Stupid boy, that Ron. Does he know how many have slept in his bed? Ha.

Damn. Need to clean the place up. Fold up rugs, throw 'em there. Bring out the nice silks, set them out. Light the incense.

Knock. Knock.

Ah. That must be him.

"Oh hello there Javin-dear~"

"Hello my little Jezebel"

He quickly moved into the room, shut the door behind him. Grab me by the waist. We move on into the bedroom. Shut the door. I bring my hand to his pants. Loosen them. Slip them off. He stares at me while I remove the rest of his clothing, moving occasionally to help in the process. I'm always impressed when I see it. Impressive girth, impressive length. I take him between my lips.

Heat. A blast. Loud noise. Light.

I clench.

"Oh god! I'm so sorry! I'll call the doctor!

No. This is too embarrassing a situation. The hell should I do? Oh god oh god oh god, don't die on me Javin, what do I do with a dead body what do I do with your body.

No.

No movement.

Dead.

Where do I put you? Oh god. You're dead. Your blood's all over the sheets and why is there a fire why is there a fire in the marine base. Ron. Ron. Are you alive Ron? My kids. Are they visiting you Ron? I hope not.

* * *

**Muffin's POV:**

Oh man. It sure was hot there. And now they leave me out to cool. What's that ruckus? Geez. OH GOD. CRAP. NO. DON'T HANDLE ME LIKE _THAT_. ARGH. Whew. … Huh? Hey! HEY! Don't throw me out there!

Plop.

What are you looking at?

What are you looking at with your beady eyes?

HEY! DON'T TRY AND EAT ME! DAMN BIRD! DAMMIT!

OW.

OW.

OW.

Yeah. That's right shitty bird. Fly away.

Aw shit. More heat. And noise. I don't remember the heat being accompanied by that much noise. Ow! Oh geez! I'm burning aren't I?

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! AND DON'T EAT ME WHILE YOU'RE AT IT."

* * *

**Kidd's Goggles' POV:**

…

…

…

That was loud.

And pretty fucking shiny.

* * *

**Rusla's POV:**

It's about time the damn ship unloaded.

"Hey sir?"

"Yes'm"

"Can you show me the way to the nearest inn?"

"Oh sure, miss. It's right over in-"

Smack. I know where the inn is. I just need your uniform. So I drag the bastard behind this wall. I'm not going to do anything to sketchy to him, I swear, but I do have to undress him first. God. His uniform smells like shit. Oh the things I do just to bomb a building. Oh good. The truck keys are in his pocket. So I get into his truck, and there are all these porno spreads everywhere. Not that I mind much. Back at Blue Moon, there was plenty of nudity to go around. On a good day, we had a nice little floorshow and we charged extra on the drinks. The guys would get in a spending mood, and they'd throw a dollar at anything that had a nice rack or ass. Those were good tipping days.

"Oh excuse me! I just started working here. I want to know where I pick up shipment PN-286."

"Ah. It's over in zone 23. The signs will show you where."

"Thanks!"

Zone 23 it is. And there ya go. The loading crew is gently loading the chests of napalm and nitro explosives.

"Hey there Rusla-chan!"

"Oh god. You. Are you joining me on this excursiong?"

"Why not. You stole this, hm?"

"Yes. Now don't piss me off too much. That's some nitro back there."

"Oooh. Still bombing shit huh?"

Damn Naphtali. What the hell kinda name is Naphtali anyway? Geez. I had such weird taste in boys back then. "Oi. Stay in your spot. I need to drive this bitch." Boy. Don't you start being so damn forward. We broke up a while back. I don't plan to return. Thank God. The marine base is just 50 miles north. These bastards are usually farther. I think I still have some sedatives. I also think he doesn't know about my hobbies. "You want some water?" "Oh! Thanks!" Go on. Drink that sucker. That a boy. You should start feeling sleeeeppppy. Heh. Good one there. Aw shit. He snores.

The supplies have been unloaded. Time to speed off!

"HEY! WATCH WOMAN YOU'RE WAY OVER THE SPEED LI-" So long sucker!

Well shit! That was louder than expected. It rocked the truck even!

"Hey boy. Wake up. I'm leaving the thing here."

"Huh? What? Oh. Over already? I don't know what came over me! I got all drowsy."

"Yeah yeah. Shut it bitch."

"Hey! Don't you dare talk to me like that!"

We bitched at eachother on the way to the inn. The Kidd crew looked at us strangely. We continued on to a room. He pushed me down to the bed. I started yelling at him. He shut me up. We made out. Funny thing, these bouts of angry sex. He's pretty much the only person this happens with. We tear at each other's clothes, we bite sometimes, sometimes draw blood. I manage to get on top. I punched his shoulder down into the cheap mattress and force his legs open. He tenses, and my lower lips take him in. I wonder how he'd like it. I take control. I ravish him, and he trembles beneath me like the pathetic bitch he is. I try and finish quickly, and don't give him a chance to enjoy. I get off him. He makes a weak attempt to enter me, to finish the job. But I kick him away. Irritated and unsatisfied, he slips his pants back on. The whole event made him limp again. His eyes seem to darken in anger, and he walks out of the room. I relax on the bed, stomach down, my head resting on my hand. Barely a moment passes and the damn captain enters. Without knocking, of course.

"Did you get your money? He looked a bit pissed, so I bet he didn't leave a tip."

"Ha. No. That was just an ex-lover."

He smirks. "I _believe_ you. You're sharing this room with some of the other crew. They'd probably be pretty excited about seeing you here." He picks up my pile of clothes and throws them at me.

"That was unexpectedly kind of you."

"Don't flatter yourself. Oh and here, some spending money. Not too much though, cause I'm sure your little client there paid you something. Nice fire by the way."

"Hn." Ass.

"I'll let the crew know you're available."

I got up and rose my fist up at him. "Don't you fucking dare!"

"I'm kidding. How much an hour?"

I glared. Now that I look a little more closely, the man seems inebriated. As they say, drink brings desire and destroys performance!

"sixty-thousand beli."

"Sure"

So that bastard goes downstairs. Did he actually believe me? I guess so. He's back up here. He throws the money near my bed and locks the door. Heh. He must be really drunk. He handed me nearly a quarter million! And so he undresses. Not bad. A better looking fuck than most of my previous boyfriends and hook ups.

"I forgot to add. I have some weird preferences…" Well shit. Maybe he wasn't drunk when he threw all that money at me. Maybe that's his way of making up for this weird fetish.

The bastard grabbed my wrists and tied them to the bed posts. Bondage? Domination? Why is he bringing his belt out? Well shit. Bondage and whipping huh?

Smack.

He completely misses and hits the floor. Yup. He's fucking drunk. This shouldn't get too bad. Well SHIT! He didn't miss that second time!

* * *

**Third Person, Omniscient Narrator's POV:**

Eustass Kidd continues his attempts to whip her, landing only 4 out of his 12 attempts. Having had enough of this he straddles her thighs, only to find that he was completely limp. He swears and tries to slap Rusla, but completely misses and hits the bed. Exhausted by his fury and unsatisfaction, he falls asleep on top of Rusla.

Two knocks at the door. The lock is picked.

Killer walks in. He surveys the situation.

"Hey! You bastard untie me!"

Killer put his hand on the straps that held Rusla down. He laughed and pocketed a couple thousand beli that was laying on the floor. He left and closed the door behind him.

Rusla woke up early. The captain was still there and her leg was falling asleep. Fortunately, Kidd woke up soon after. Unfortunately, his drinking caught up with him. He stumbled off to the edge of the room and threw up so much that it seemed like his stomach lining was on the floor.

"That's nasty. Now untie me."

"Huh?" Kidd started laughing. He collected the money off the floor and then untied Rusla. "I don't even know what happened, but damn! This is fucking hilarious." He slapped her ass and noticed a few red welts. "Oh. What happened there?"

"You. Your belt. Now please, for the love of god, fucking untie me."

"Yeah, yeah." He untied her and walked out of the room.

"The bastard" Rusla gritted her teeth and searched for her clothes. On a good note, Rusla discovered at least a hundred thousand belli left behind near her clothes. On a bad note, Rusla had to make a walk of shame as she left the room. The crew was jeering at her and asked her what her hourly rate was for various actions. Her response was in her middle finger. Kidd was nowhere to be found. She left the inn, and left the town. Her walking brought her to a little shithole excuse of a town where she heard a fantastic fire and brimstone sermon that seemed to echo throughout the town that fine morning.


	11. Chapter 10: A Great Reawakening

Oh hai guise. Been awhile. Yeah. Like I've been literarily constipated. Then an old favorite shot me some good literary fiber, yeah that good Poseida Lunar kiddo. (The fiber wheatgrass shot was something like "dude, where the fuck have you been," except PLunar is a lot more polite than that). All scat jokes aside, I've decided to make this bit here somewhat more educational. I think all pieces will be bit more educational from now on. There will be a point to them! And ultimately, some sense of cohesion. I've also decided to cut back on the choppy dialogue, because I've decided it is embarrassing to my work. Anyway, sorry about the wait. "sorries" and "my apologies" aren't gonna change the long delay, but an update will. Have fun. I want something sexy next chapter. Do you? Yes. Yes, you do.

* * *

White spittle rained from angry man's mouth as railed against inherent evil of human nature and the coming rapture. Not a soul was spared.

"Your wickedness makes you as it were heavy as lead, and to tend downwards with great weight and pressure towards hell; and if God should merely let you go, you would immediately sink and swiftly descend and plunge into the bottomless gulf and your healthy constitution, and your own care and prudence, and best contrivance, and all your righteousness (etc. etc.), would have no more influence to uphold you and keep you out of hell! You all are held the way a revolting spider is held over a flame! (How do you do that?) Only by the grace of God do you not fall into this flame! And you children! Do not assume that your youth protects you from hell! God's rage is like the great and ever increasing waters that are damned at the present. They rise higher and higher until an outlet is given. Mark my words! Get your pencils and paper! (Pencils and paper!) God's raging waters (Pencils and paper!) will be released a year and a day from now! (Pencils and- wait, that's a pagan term, that year and a day. How sacreligious! Pencils and paper!) Make your fellow men of moral fiber! (Ehehehehe, moral fiber? Will that give us regular holy shit?) As of now, our councilors are trying to decide whether or not to pass bill 167. Bill 167 makes the purchase and consumption of various hallucinogenics illegal. (What's wrong with a good time, Father?) In addition to addressing these dangerous drugs, this bill will also increase funding to religious communities such as ours. With more funds, we will be able to lead our young away from crime and raise them to be moral citizens until the Great Flood. (Pencils and paper guys, it's the "Great Flood")

(I think an explanation of this island is in order)

"Pardon me, Father, I merely wish to make an announcement.

I HAVE PURPLE WEED FOR CHEAP. FIRST COME; FIRST SERVE"

There were so many gasps, you'd think that this was hell for balloons. Nevertheless, a handful of kids and a few scruffy old characters followed Rusla. Rusla said some thank-yous to the fellows who followed her and passed a bit of weed around. Seeing that most of the people here were content, she asked them all a question- What on earth was the history of this screwy island? The kids jumped around excitedly mumbling and yelling about the version they learned in school. It went a little like this: some time ago, after the void century, a group of religious people moved to this island after getting pushed out of every other island. Of course, there were some native people on this island, but as it goes, winner takes all, and the religious people won. The religious folks moved to comfy areas of the island and controlled the resources of the island and the labor of the natives. The natives, according to textbooks, are kind, deserve love, but have a weird culture that causes them to act, well, weird. But we must all be tolerant of culture and we must allow the natives to be weird, and we must continue support them financially if need be. When Rusla finished reciting this, one of the scruffy older men present interrupted. Sure, it was a good summary of the textbook, but this was the textbook. The local government funded the production of the textbook, so naturally, the textbook said what the local government liked. The part about the religious guys getting all pushed out of the island is correct and the part about the religious guys swiping the nice spots of land from the natives and putting them in forced labor is correct, but there is a big hole in their assessment of the natives. They've been painted as a bunch of weird guys who work the land and the religious folks are painted as a bunch of tolerant guys who try to help them with their charitable donations. So let's restart this. Some time ago, the religious nuts ended up out here, pushed out of other islands, whatever. They claimed the resources from the natives and the natives were reduced to little more than slaves. According to the literature of some self-immolating, hyper tolerant religious nut, the natives were taxed into submission. At first, they were charged a small tax to keep their land, and that tax was paid in the form of natural resources, then the tax was raised. They kept raising the tax until all the natives had to themselves was enough to feed themselves. The natives would've like to fight back, but they lacked the resources to. Instead, they developed a fatalist culture. They partied hard, and death became almost insignificant to them; life would never change. They learned not to seek anything better. The religious elites perpetuate this culture, whether they are aware of it or not. The elites supplement the meager earning of the natives with charitable donations and subsidized living and medical care. You'd think that this would help these people, but why work when you can feed yourself for free? Since the beginning of the Pirate Era, some of the natives have woken up to this madness. They won't take it anymore.

And so went the story.

Their story. Not "herstory" or any of the inane bullcrap. Freaking reality for ya.

But that doesn't explain the apparent middle class around this island. The Kidd pirates docked at a semi-busy port? It's typically the middle class who-

"Oh gosh! I should, like, change my name to Sakura. Sakura Tenshi!" gushed a girl with dull brown hair and even duller brown eyes.

"Eh? Oh she gets that way when she's high. Get's these odd fancies. One time, she thought her eyes were changing color based on her mood." The old geezer mumbled and appeared a tad embarrassed.

The Sakura girl stood up suddenly and let her gaze linger at one of the guys. "You're supposed to swoon over me." … "My mother died when I was but a young girl." … "My first boyfriend raped me" … "I had no friends in school; they were all jealous of my looks" She turned sharply and dramatically posed at Rusla. "Don't you hate being so pretty sometimes" The girl's eyes grew comically. The geezer moved in to shut her up, but Rusla stopped him. The old drunks at that bar (what was it called again? It's been so long…) never got this carried away. The girl tripped and fell. "Oh my gosh, I'm so clumsy…"

"She's waiting for someone, aka Mr. Right, to waltz up to her, help her up, and fall right back down in love with her," The geezer whispered to Rusla. "Very, very far down," he added quietly.

"How'd you know she wants that?"

"I see it happen a lot with these girls. Especially the wealthy ones who are butt ugly. They start flashing reebus-knows-what at poor blokes and throw attitudes like reebus wouldn't believe at any potential competition. Then they write about it like they're something worth looking at. Except, even their writing shows their shallow minds and irritating naïveté"

Rusla had something else she wanted to tell this group of kids, but she forgot. Thoughts fly when you're high. The weed soon ran out, and Rusla slowly walked back to the ship. Killer informed her of the plans to drink for one last night at one of the local bars.

"Are you going to hook up with Kidd again?"

"Probably not. He could barely perform last time."

"Heh. Repeat that when we get back to the bar. I want to see the look on that kid's face."

"Well played, my good sir."

A sudden sense of respect developed between the two at that particular moment. The mask sharply nodded at the woman who returned the gesture. They walked on without so much as looking back at each other, content with their mutual understanding of a good word play. The sun cast its light on Rusla's face, highlighting her features with its golden glory. And inversely, the shadows settled on Killer's masked mien, demonstrating the gravity of the meeting. Never before had two pirates on Kidd's crew participated in something so significant, as a clever remark. Nothing clever ever happened in Kidd's presence. Such an event yields exaltation, and not the Mormon variety. Rusla stopped before the ship and felt as though she stood on the edge of glory...

And then she decided on a quick nap before she'd join the crew at the bar.


End file.
